


Mutual Orgasms Between Best Bros

by wannabehipster



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ((all other relationships are background)), ((fuck yeah i always wanted to use that tag)), ((i swear this is stora)), ((it's written in my personal headcannon okok)), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Flowers, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Sloppy Makeouts, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 23:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabehipster/pseuds/wannabehipster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora and Stiles are best friends. Best friends who fuck on a semi-regular basis. No big deal, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual Orgasms Between Best Bros

**Author's Note:**

> This was written during 3x09 and 3x10 so pretend the last two episodes never happened!  
> I just love this ship and it's my farewell to the lovely Cora Hale xo  
> \--

The disaster of Alpha pack was taken care of, with the inside help of the twins (who surprisingly switched sides after Kali's death and Danny's turning) and peace was restored to Beacon Hills. The peace brought the scattered remains of all the packs together into one _super badass pack_ (as Stiles affectionately named them). It worked for everybody and soon the newly rebuilt Hale house became home base (that nickname came from Cora actually).

 

When deciding what video game console the pack should invest in, the one unanimous opinion amongst them was there would be no war games; that they've seen so much death already, none of them need it animated on Derek's new flat screen television. So when the   ladies (and Isaac, _the traitor_ ) said they preferred the Wii over the Playstation 4– the fight was over before it even really begun. Derek and Peter outright refused to participate in the petty argument, always muttering “I can't believe I surround myself with teenagers” when the debate arises. It goes on for about a month until the boys giving in begrudgingly, only after Aiden starts pleading (Lydia was going on 9 days without letting the poor guy go past first base).

 

The bonds between all the members of the new pack strengthen incredibly; so it's no surprise that Stiles and Cora gravitate towards each other, at least not for them. They ground each other in a way none of the others do, they just _understand_ what the other one goes through and that's enough. Scott will always be Stiles' brother, nobody will ever change that– but Cora is Stiles' other best friend. His best friend who gives great head but that's beside the sentimental point.

-

 

“Fuck you Cora,” Stiles groans as her character nudges him off Rainbow Road (it was Allison's idea to buy Mario Kart, she craves a good “friendly” competition). Cora just laughs as she crosses the finish line in first place, Stiles trailing behind in sixth. She laughs even harder as he slams the controller on the coffee table, crossing his arms across his chest in defeat. Cora always kicks his ass in Mario Kart, but he chooses to hold onto his hope that someday he'll beat her (she entertains the idea because it's what good friends do).

 

“If you insist,” Cora teases as she moves to straddle his waist, her own controller thrown somewhere near Stiles'. His hands find her hips automatically, fingers splayed across her lower back while she tangles her fingers in his dark hair. Stiles' pout has been replaced with a bright grin, so Cora leans forward to nip at his lower lip playfully. “Where are all the others?” She asks, genuinely curious because she doesn't really want to be walked in on. They haven't outright told the pack of their development, Cora doesn't want them to find out firsthand (in an effort to keep Scott sane).

 

“Aiden, Lydia, Danny and Ethan are on a dinner and movie double date. Isaac, Scott and Allison are dragging Derek shopping for clothes that aren't black. Melissa and my dad are out grocery shopping, I'm pretty sure.” Stiles rattles off, his gaze focusing on the dip of her shirt that exposes the valley between her breasts. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, swiping over the skin to moisten it.

 

“What about Peter?” She questions, tugging lightly at his hair so he meets her eyes sheepishly.

 

“Probably trying to seduce Chris again.” Stiles retorts, his hands wandering to rest on the curve of her ass. Cora closes the distance between their mouths, attacking his with a controlled ferocity that comes with being a werewolf. Stiles returns the passion with fervor, keeping up with the demanding edge to their kiss. It's all teeth and tongue, only pulling away to take in a necessary gulp of oxygen.

 

His lips don't leave her skin though, they just trace a path across her jaw and down her neck (which she willingly bares to give him better access) pausing every once and awhile to suck a mark into her neck– nosing at the skin once the bruise fades. Her whole body feels on fire, starting where his skin meets hers and spreading to every untouched crevice. Cora rolls her hips down into his, hissing when his erection presses against her damp core. Stiles bites at her lips as one of his hands snake up her shirt, blunt nails raking up the smooth skin of her back and over her ribs. His hand nudges her bra out of the way before cupping the smooth flesh of her breast, rolling her nipple between his forefinger and thumb until it pebbles under his touch. She feels herself floating higher and higher, the only thing following her is the warm press of Stiles’ hands. Cora pulls at Stiles' hair, maneuvering his head so she can kiss him again (although it's more panting against each other's mouth than actual kissing). “Somebody's coming up the stairs,” Cora sighs as she pulls away from Stiles; he chases her lips for one last kiss (she has to smile at his enthusiasm). She runs her fingers through his hair one last time, fussing with his hair until it looks less like _sex hair_ and more _naturally messy_.

 

“Whoever is having sex and is stinking up the entire floor with pheromones have exactly one minute to get decent before we come in,” Derek impatiently calls from the hallway. Cora and Stiles break apart, his hands smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt before she gets off of his lap. Her laugh bubbles out from her when she watches Stiles readjust himself in his jeans, winking as she tosses his controller at him. Cora and Stiles are busy setting up another round of Mario Kart when Isaac and Allison enter the den, throwing the few shopping bags in their hands on the floor and falling gracefully onto the oversized loveseat. Scott and Derek wander in next, placing their bags with the others; Derek glaring holes into the back of Stiles' head when he comes to the conclusion that he was the one screwing his baby sister. Stiles remains unfazed (he’s become immune to the eyes just like Lydia’s immune to the bite).

 

“Isaac doesn't believe that your the best at Mario Kart,” Scott says to Cora– flopping onto the empty spot next to Stiles. Isaac just grins guilty, shrugging his shoulders when Cora smirks at him.

 

“Pass each of us a remote, I wanna see how bad he is for myself,” Allison interjects. She pats Isaac's cheek affectionately when he pouts– causing Scott and Stiles to burst into laughter. Cora rolls her eyes (it's in her nature, she is a Hale after all) and digs through the spaces between the couch cushions for the other remotes; Isaac catches them deftly when she throws them and Allison just huffs at his display of werewolf abilities.

 

Danny, Lydia and the twins walk into the house as the rest of the pack bickers over what character each of them will play as. Lydia just sighs as they settle it, tugging Aiden down to the floor so she can rest against him. Isaac lets Stiles be Mario and Cora punches him playfully in the shoulder since she's playing as Peach. The rest of the pack snicker at their behavior, knowing commenting on it would be a waste of breath.

 

Cora really is the best at Mario Kart, clearing the virtual finish line first every race they play. Stiles alternates between kissing her cheek and fist pounding her outstretched hand every time she kicks ass. Isaac gives in after the fourth round, passing his controller to Danny (he's the only person who has a chance to beat Cora, after all). The game between Cora and Danny is tense, every person in the room watching the screen with rapt attention.

 

In the last few seconds of the race, Danny pushes past Cora's character to take the gold. The pack cheers, although Isaac cheers the loudest (Allison has to rest her hand on his knee to keep him from flying out of his seat). Ethan attacks Danny in an embrace and Stiles is thankful they found each other, they balance each other like the sun and the moon. He reaches over to Cora, who's faking being sad for the _greater good_ , and rubs his thumb over her knuckles. “You're still the queen at this game, don't worry-” Stiles whispers low enough so only she can hear, moving close so his breath tickles the hairs on her neck. Her smile in return is dazzling.

–

 

Stiles isn't really sure how he ends up in Lydia's bedroom with Cora, he thinks it must have something to do with the abundance of wine coolers (more wine than juice because Danny likes to mask the taste of wolfsbane) he's consumed over the duration of the night. It was Lydia's turn to host the weekly pack night, so the lower level of the Martin household was turned into a makeshift club and all the guest bedrooms stocked with a clean set of sheets (just in case). Lydia lives by the motto _go big or go home_ , and Stiles has never been more thankful for it.

 

Cora must've dragged him upstairs– he thinks hazily, but most of his focus is directed at the sight of Cora peeling her shirt off of her body and draping the fabric over the desk chair. “Enjoying the show?” She quips as her fingers pop the buttons on her sinfully tight jeans, peeling the material down her toned thighs.

 

“C'mere,” Stiles makes grabby hands at her from his spot on Lydia's queen sized bed. Cora laughs at how young Stiles looks, with pink cheeks and his whiskey colored eyes bright and curious. She climbs onto the bed and perches herself over Stiles, her thumb grazing his lower lip; he nips at it like an excited puppy.

 

“We have to get your clothes off so there's no wrinkles for tomorrow,” Cora tells Stiles, her hands holding the edges of his plaid flannel. He nods and sits up, allowing her to remove the over shirt and the tank top he's wearing underneath. She presses a kiss to the hollow of his throat, leaving a sticky lip gloss stain sparkling against his pale skin. Her hands skim the sides of his ribs as she moves to shed his jeans. “Up,” she commands, tapping his hips so she can pull off the denim.

 

“You're the best, you know.” Stiles mumbles once they're both sufficiently naked; him in Batman boxer briefs and her in a matching set of emerald green lingerie. He pulls her into his arms and tugging her down so she's lying next to him. He wraps himself around her, molding himself to cradle her against his chest (he's a cuddler by nature, the alcohol just increases his tactile side). “Cora?” Stiles whispers into the soft waves of her hair, breathing the faint smell of strawberry shampoo.

 

“Yeah?” Cora says, her fingers tracing patterns on the arm wrapped around her midsection.

 

“Promise me that if you start having feelings for me, you'll tell me.” His voice is filled with nervous tension, it makes Cora wonder exactly how long he's been worried about this topic.

 

“I promise as long you do the same for me,” Cora responds instantly, and she can feel the tension seep out of Stiles. She settles back against him, almost purring with how content she feels. They fall asleep eventually, somewhere between Stiles' impression of Derek's growl and Cora telling stories about her adventures in South America.

–

 

Friday nights (and usually the following Saturday mornings) are reserved for Stiles and Scott's traditional _bro night_. Isaac leaves the McCall house once dusk falls, calling out “don't do stupid shit” as he runs towards the Hale house (the advice goes in one ear and out the other with the two of them). Stiles thinks listening to Isaac's advice would have been helpful as he stumbles out from the movie theater with Scott trailing behind him– the only light coming from the street lamps lining the street.

 

Seeing The Conjuring at three in the morning was not one of Stiles' best ideas nor was it's Scott's for actually agreeing with him. “Fuck, I almost pissed my pants during that.” Stiles groans once they make it to the safety of the Jeep. Scott looks paler than usual, but it just might be the light illuminating from his cellphone that's doing that; Stiles isn’t too certain.

 

“Can we go ask Peter and Chris if demonic possessions are a real thing tomorrow?” Scott asks, his voice wavering.

 

“I wouldn't doubt it for a second dude,” Stiles sighs as the Jeep sputters to life. “Where to?” Stiles asks as they pull out of the almost deserted parking lot, headlights breaking through the darkness.

 

“Allison's house, she invited me to her and Isaac's sleepover.” Scott pauses before laughing, his whole body shaking. “God, I'm about to have a threesome right?”

 

“Obviously. I'm proud of you bro,” Stiles laughs with him, mostly in awe because a year ago this never would have happened. A year ago, Stiles was worried that he was going to be killed by the kanima and died a sexless virgin (and look at him now).

 

“I am too honestly,” Scott says a little breathlessly. The chatter about the movie and the new teachers at Beacon Hills High (none of them are evil druids, _thank god_ ). Stiles pulls into the Argent's driveway after a few moments of peaceful driving with no spooks or monsters showing their faces. “Next week, let's just play video games and eat enough pizza to feed an army.” Scott suggests as he sends a quick to Allison and Isaac.

 

“I agree 100%. Stay safe Scotty boy!” Stiles calls as Scott hops out of the vehicle. Scott flips him off and lopes towards the door. Stiles laughs as he pulls out of the driveway, the thought of Allison raising tiny little McCall’s and Lahey’s quite entertaining.

 

Stiles makes it to his house in one piece, the skittering fear he felt during the movie hitting him with a vengeance. The side of him that runs with werewolves and who has seen more death than a person should, believes that anything remotely supernatural is possible; it's that side of him that's trumping any sense of rationality. He's sitting in his Jeep, warding off an impending anxiety attack when his phone chirps loudly in his pocket.

 

**1 new message: cora**

**come inside assface. ur dad let me inside btw**

 

Rolling his eyes (a bad habit he picked up from spending too much time with all the Hales) he yanks his keys from the ignition and clambers up the front steps; locking the doors behind him. “Honey I'm home,” Stiles jokes as he slips off his shoes and dumps his keys in the ceramic bowl by the door.

 

Cora appears at the top of the staircase, dressed in a grey tracksuit with her hair pulled into a messy bun, her trademark smirk on her face. “Isaac texted me a warning about your mental health after seeing Scott all jittery and nervous. So I came to your rescue like the good friend I just so happen to be,” she stated as Stiles took the stairs two at a time; grabbing her into a crushing hug when he reached the top.

 

“Thanks,” he tells her as she nudges him into his bedroom. She flops onto his bed, getting comfortable for the long night ahead, as he changes into a pair of navy sweats and a worn out T-shirt. He cuddles close to her once he's done, feeling more at ease once her hands smooth over his skin. Since being thrown into the supernatural shit-storm, touch has become an anchor for him (it's not just werewolves who need one). “I'm never seeing another horror movie ever again.” Stiles mumbles into the hollow of Cora's throat as her hands dip under the waistband of his sweats to stroke the edges of his hipbones.

 

“See them in the daytime silly, you of all people know that things go bump in the middle of the night.” Cora teases as Stiles snuffles into her skin, his hair tickling her jaw. “You should sleep now, since tomorrow Derek wants to hold a meeting to discuss the fae tribe passing through.” Her fingers trace the edge of his boxers, her (very human) nails pressing into the soft flesh of his thighs.

 

“How am I supposed to sleep when a ghost could be living in my closet at this very moment!” Stiles says, his heart rate spiking with Cora presumes to be fear (there's always a slight arousal bleeding from him when she's around, so she ignores it for the most part).

 

“I'll scare it away before it can come and posses you.” She states simply.

 

“Way to emasculate me there,” Stiles whines (a very manly whine in fact). Cora just laughs at him, which is nothing new. “I don't think I can sleep though, I feel too jittery.”

 

“Let me blow you then.” Cora says coolly, a small smile on her face when Stiles' heart stutters in it's rhythm. Stiles pulls back from her, nodding jerkily when Cora's fingers stop running across his skin (consent is something to be given every time, one of Cora's rules for their relationship).

 

She laughs before pressing an open mouth kiss to his parted lips, trailing lower to suck red marks onto his neck and shoulders. Stiles flings his shirt off when Cora moves to pull his sweats down to his knees. He can't help the moan that leaves his lips when she palms his half-hard cock through the fabric of his boxers or the whimper that escaped him when she drags a nail through his happy trail. She settles between Stiles' spread legs and looks at him with wide doe eyes (that _innocent_ expression does things to Stiles that he could write _sonnets_ about).

 

He doesn't remember when Cora pulled his boxers down, his mind going fuzzy when she wraps a hand around his erection. She presses wet kisses to his thighs– occasionally nipping with a hint of fang as she pumps him to fullness. Once she deems him ready (a combination of the flush that starts at his cheeks and ends at his chest, the needy and choked noises that are being ripped from him, and the drops of pre-cum gathering at the head of his cock). She suddenly licks a broad stripe from base to tip, collecting the salty essence of him once she reaches it. Kitten licking the throbbing vein, she drags her nails across his thighs– causing him to keen high in his throat.

 

When she finally wraps her lips around his dick, Stiles is seeing bright stars dance across his vision. His hands find themselves resting on her head, massaging her scalp as she hollows her cheeks and takes him deeper. One of her hands jerks the part of his cock that isn't in her mouth while the other cups his balls gently; the sensations start to border on overwhelming yet it's just what he needs tonight.

 

His cock is hot and heavy against her tongue and she's assaulted by the familiar musk of Stiles; it should be alarming on how comforting the scent is too her, but she can't find it in her to care. She sucks with just the barest hint of pressure while running the tip of her tongue into the slit– knowing it drives him wild. His fingers tighten slightly and she can feel the muscles in his stomach contract under her hand. “'m close- God Cora your _mouth_.” Stiles moans as he cums; her throat working to swallow it all.

 

Cora releases his softening cock with a lewd pop, a string of saliva and semen sticking to her swollen lips. She runs her tongue over them with a smirk, Stiles groaning at the sight. She slips into the open spot in his arms, moving to be the little spoon. “Want me to get you off?” He asks, words slurred from his orgasmic bliss.

 

Cora chuckles, pulling his arms tighter around her. “No, it's okay. Tonight was about you.”

 

Stiles mumbles his appreciation into her hair, low enough that Cora wouldn't have heard if if she was human. He slides his hands to rest on the bare skin of her stomach, loving the silky feel of her under his fingertips. “Stay.” He whispers, his voice affectionate and warm.

 

“Always.”

–

 

**stiles: anybody at the hale house?**

**cora: no, why?**

**stiles: i'll be right over.**

 

Cora threw her phone back onto her bed, waiting for the thump that echoes around her room before resuming her push-ups. The days leading up to the full moon leave her with energy that buzzes under her skin– just waiting to be released. Exercising always took the edge off for her, although she preferred to do it alone and not with the rest of them; she was the only girl werewolf in the pack and sometimes the overwhelming stench of testosterone was a bit _much_.

 

She hears Stiles' jeep come puttering up the long driveway a few moments later, so she pulls herself into a sitting position and wipes the dampness from her brow. She lets down her hair from the tight bun she had it in, shaking her head to loosen up the strands (Stiles would probably make some snide dog comment if he saw). She throws on a clean sweater that Lydia left her and a pair of shorts that were sitting on her desk; tossing the sweaty clothes she worked out in into the hamper.

 

She hears the door creak open and Stiles' racing heartbeat from the floor above, so she wanders down the stairs so she doesn't scare him. “What's up?” Cora asks brightly as she makes her way into the tiled foyer. He's wearing one of his plaid flannels buttoned up and he smells nervous, which piques Cora's curiosity. Stiles is _rarely_ ever nervous.

 

“I got you these,” Stiles says as he moves his hands in front of him, a colorful bouquet of flowers clutched tightly between his pale fingers. He grins sheepishly and Cora feels her cheeks turn a dusty pink (it makes her feel like the girl she was before the fire– which isn't unpleasant). She kisses him, mostly smiling against his mouth, but she hopes it conveys how much the gesture means to her.

 

“Why?” She inquires as she grabs the flowers, bringing them up to her nose to sniff. They smell beautiful and they remind her of her mother's flower garden (she used to sit amongst the bushes for hours when she was a kid).

 

She watches as Stiles scratches the back of his neck and bites his lip, she can almost see the wheels in his head turning as he thinks. She moves towards the kitchen, where Derek has hidden a few vases and lets him think of an answer. Cora places the flowers on the counter, running a hand over the delicate petals before searching for the vases. “It's the six month anniversary since the first time we kissed.” Stiles says suddenly, she almost drops the intricate glass vase she's holding (she would have, if it wasn't for her reflexes). “Actually second time, since the actual first time was CPR and you were dying...” She snorts at the memory (she'll never tell a soul that she was in fact conscious during the whole hospital ordeal).

 

“They don't even match asshole.” She says as he grabs the vase from her, bumping shoulders when he passes her on the way to the sink. She leans against the counter, picking up the bouquet and holding it to her chest, and watches Stiles fill up the vase with his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Thank you though.” She smiles, hoping that her voice conveys how thankful she truly is. The smile she gets in return is full of bright white teeth .

 

“I picked them for their meanings, I spent an entire night researching the symbolism of flowers for you. You better like them.” Stiles retorts, placing the filled glass vase of the counter before plastering himself against her. He leans down and kisses her softly (she can taste the promise of what's to come) as his hands cup her cheeks.

 

“Tell me what they mean then,” Cora mumbles into his mouth, her fingers curling around the muscle in his arms. He bites at her lip before pulling back, smirking when a whine escapes her throat. She swats at his arm as he moves to her side, standing so that their arms brush against each other as they both face the counter.

 

“These are pink tulips-” he tells her as he pulls out the dark pink flowers- “and they symbolize friendship.” He places them in the vase as she laughs at how careful he's being. “These big white and blue ones are called passion flowers.” He says as he removes the huge flowers from the paper cone.

 

“I'm guessing they communicate passion?” Cora laughs, unable to contain the smile on her face. Stiles loves seeing her like this, finally free from the burden on her shoulders– even if it's only for a few minutes (her smile could light the entirety of the Empire State building).

 

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” Stiles jokes as he drops the bundle of flowers next to the tulips. She punches his shoulder playfully, snickering ( _not so discreetly_ ) when he winces. “These pretty white ones are called tuberose, they were my mom's favorite flower.” Cora can't smell any sadness on him, so he must have let it slip. She grabs his hand in hers, just in case. He smiles at her softly before continuing, “they mean pleasure.”

 

Cora trails her fingers up the length of his arm, following the bluest vein– knowing that the simple gesture turns him on. “These last ones are forget-me-nots, I love them for the sky blue color. They mean remember me forever, which isn't much of a shock.” He informs her, his voice only breaking when her nails scrape against the crease of his elbow.

 

Once all of the flowers are arranged to his liking, he turns to her with a devilish grin. She's suddenly aware of the dampness between her thighs when his honey eyes rake across her body; she bites back a whimper when his arms grip her waist and lifts her onto the counter. The counter's cold against the bare skin her  shorts don't cover, but all she can focus on is the fiery trails his fingertips leave in their wake. She settles her hands on his hips, fingers curving under the belt loops and tugging him closer; wrapping her long legs around his waist with the heels of her feet settling over the curve of his ass.

 

His hands wander over every inch of skin before settling to tangle in her hair and grab at her neck. He tugs with the barest hint of pressure, tilting her head up so his lips can meet hers. Her tongue taps against his bottom lip, pressing it's way into the open space of Stiles' mouth. She wants to taste every part of him, wants to soak up everything he has to give her and she knows he wants the same. She's too busy mapping out the cavern of his mouth so she doesn't realize that his hands are sliding down her back and under the swell of her butt. They break for air but Cora's lips never leave him, opting to place open mouth kisses on the milky skin of his neck.

 

She reaches the hollow of his throat and bites down (with just a _hint_ of fang), she feels his heartbeat jump under her tongue. “Hold on tight,” he whispers roughly in her ear, his warm breath ghosting over the shell of it. She circles her arms around his neck, interlocking her fingers together and clenching her thighs around his hips.

 

She giggles when he picks her up off the counter, carrying her towards the stairs with little effort. “When you'd learn how to do this?” She giggles as he takes the stairs two at a time (bless his long legs).

 

“Danny gave me his gym membership, and I've been going recently. Might not be werewolf level strength, but it'll have to do.” He tells her as he nears her bedroom, kicking the slightly ajar door open wider. He places her on the bed and wastes no time in draping himself over her, his hands nudging the tight fabric of her tank-top out of the way. He strokes the smooth planes of her stomach and travels up her ribs and over her breasts.

 

She huffs impatiently, the full moon energy burning under her skin once more, pushing Stiles off of her so she can remove the offending fabric. The rest of the clothing they're wearing comes off soon after (Cora's certain she'll be stepping on tiny plastic buttons for weeks after). She relaxes against the pile of pillows, carding her hands through Stiles' hair as he settles between her open legs. One hand curls around her thigh– guiding her leg so it's resting over his shoulder while his other hand lays flat against her stomach, blunt fingers pressing indents into the flesh. He bites the creamy expanse of her thighs– mouthing at the barely there tan line and sucks hickies along the way (he loves to watch them fade as quickly as he creates them). He blows a cool stream of air over her trembling center, mesmerized as he sees her inner walls bear down on the invisible pressure. A wrecked noise emanates from above him, so he ghosts his thumb over her clit, just teasing. “Can I?” He rasps his breath burning her aching core.

 

“God yes, do fucking _something_. Anything _please_.” Cora hisses, the heel of her foot digging into the dip of Stiles' shoulder blades and her fingers gripping his hair so tight (the jolt of pain goes straight to his weeping dick).

 

“Bossy aren't we?” He hums as he noses between her folds. He licks a broad stripe upwards, stopping to swirl around her swollen clit. She arches her back at the first bit of contact, she's already so high strung from Stiles' teasing and the proximity of the full moon (she's in for at least a few mind-blowing orgasms). He starts off kitten licking everywhere– varying amounts of pressure over her sensitive spots until he feels her whole body shaking with her impending orgasm.

 

He turns his face into her thigh, letting her feel the moisture on his chin and the wild smirk on his lips, and he presses a hot open mouth kiss over the spot. He resumes focus on her cunt then, attaching his lips to the hypersensitive bundle of nerves and sucking gently. He darts his tongue over her clit slowly, circling it with just the tip before pressing his tongue flat against it and pressing gently. Cora's first orgasm hits her suddenly, her thighs clamping around Stiles' head– holding him there (as if he would move) as her body shakes with the force. He licks her through the aftershocks, her cum dripping down his chin and leaving sticky trails behind. He swallows as much as he can manage; like he’s a parched man in a desert and Cora’s his oasis.

 

“Can you go for another one?” He asks her as her body goes lax. Cracking his sore jaw, he's captivated by Cora's beauty; a thin sheen of sweat covers her pale skin and her dark hair strewn across the white pillows, her eyes screwed shut and lips bitten cherry-red. Those red lips curve into a smile as she feels his heavy gaze, and when her hazel eyes open– they're sparkling with a challenge.

  


“Give me your best shot sweetheart,” she drawls, already canting her hips towards his outstretched hand. He presses a sloppy kiss on her navel, nuzzling into the skin and inhaling the heady smell of sex and Cora (he can only imagine how it must be for her, werewolf nose and everything). He slides a finger in– knuckle deep and let's her adjust to the sudden intrusion; only a few moments pass before she's rocking down onto him.

 

Stiles adds another finger since she's looser after her first orgasm and starts pumping rhythmically in-and-out– hitting her g-spot on every other twist of his wrist. She's making all of these choked off moans and quiet whimpers as he rubs his calloused thumb over her oversensitive clit. She's thrusting back against his fingers, so he stills them so he's pressing against her inner walls. Her cunt squeezes down on his fingers as her second orgasm barrels through her. Stiles leans forward and crushes his lips to hers as she's coming down from her high. Cora pulls back, a blissed out expression on her face and Stiles doesn't fight the urge to pepper kisses all over her face. She’s adorable all sexed out, and he never fails to tell her that.

 

“Come on me,” she suggests, sweeping a hand towards his erection– with a furious red head that's leaking precum all over her sheets. He nods jerkily (who would be an idiot to turn down that offer?) as he removes his slick hand from her vagina. He wipes the residual wetness from the hand that was just inside her all over his cock, gathering the precum beaded on the tip also. He's so close that it only takes him a few strokes before he's cumming all over her body; streaking her abdomen and tits with milky white.

 

He flops beside her, pulling her into his arms even though they're both in need of a shower. She leans forward and kisses him passionately, exerting the last bit of her energy into the motions of her mouth working in synch with his. He moans brokenly as her hand gently cups his softening dick, sliding a nail through the coarse hair growing above it.

 

“I feel like a real life porn star now.” She laughs as they break their kiss, causing Stiles to groan (the roughness of her voice going straight to his dick, not even ten minutes after his world-shattering orgasm).

–

 

The night after the full moon always involves movie night, plenty of puppy piles and a large potluck meal; everyone attended, including all of the adults that had work the next morning. The dinner was just not complete without the famous McCall lasagna. Stiles loved how far they've all come since the Alpha Pack and Darach fiasco and he marvels at how close the pack is now; he usually saves the sappy thoughts until his second helping of food (even though he was rightfully human, he still had the metabolism to rival Scott or Ethan) but tonight he just can't escape them. Stiles thinks it has something to do with the announcement of his _deflowering_ that he gets the honor of sharing (Cora and him flipped a coin over it– Stiles is never trusting tails again) that has him so emotional, or maybe it's the legendary brownies Derek baked (that man is still a mystery to him, even though they're now actually good friends).

 

He's sandwiched between Danny and Allison at the banquet sized table, Cora sitting directly across from him as she's flanked by Lydia and Melissa. Cora kicks his leg under the table and he barely manages to conceal his wince, but he guesses it's now or never. He raises his glass cup and clinks his fork against it (he feels like he's in a movie dammit), effectively silencing the table-wide discussion on silver bullets.

 

“So I um, just wanted to tell you all that– well, I'm sleeping with Cora and have been for the past few months.” Stiles rushes out when everybody's eyes are watching him, his face heating rapidly. Nobody really seems too shocked at his news, which is slightly disappointing because he was hoping for a “mighty Alpha glare” from Derek, _at least_.

 

“Son, we've known since the day it happened.” His dad offers, a hint of pride coloring his voice.

 

“Yeah dude, you guys reek of each other.” Aiden supplies, his nose crinkling.

 

“Gee, thanks guys. Anybody else want to confess?” Stiles sighs because he knows that there's enough secrets to confess for weeks.

 

“Scott, Isaac and I had a threesome last week.” Allison blurts out, a smile creeping over her lips. Scott and Isaac, who are sitting next to each other, just shrug; Chris pinches the bridge of his nose while Melissa just shakes her head fondly. The rest of the group just wolf-whistles, like the assholes they all love to be.

 

“Well, I guess now's the perfect time to share my news. John and I are in a serious relationship,” Melissa confesses, reaching for the Sheriff's hand over the table. Scott and Stiles groan obnoxiously, but they can't hide the smiles on their faces.

 

“Okay last one, I promise. I may have said yes to Peter's insistent pursuit of a date..?” Chris admits, laughing softly. Allison grumbles unhappily from her seat and Peter just cackles (it will never _not_ be creepy, no matter how many times Peter proves his loyalty).

 

The conversation putters out after that, moving onto the safer conversation of flowers; Stiles blows a kiss to Cora and chuckling when she blushes. They wrap up dinner smoothly, transitioning to movie portion of the night (Lydia picked The Notebook _again_ ). The den soon fills with the pack, the usual bickering over who sits where starting up as Derek loads up the dishwasher. Stiles chooses a spot on the floor, grabbing a few pillows from the piles; Cora joins him with a smile on her face and a fluffy quilt perfect for two.

 

If Cora and Stiles happen to get a little handsy under the patched-up quilt they're snuggled under, nobody mentions it.

  


_**fin.** _

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos would be lovely<3  
> check out my [tumblr](http://mountainashmondays.tumblr.com/) if you have any questions and such


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